Bates and Switch
by rocklynn
Summary: A gruesome murder splits Goldblume and Washington's partnership. Belker makes a smelly retrieval. Bates, still grieving over the loss of LaRue and Calletano, is left with a shocking discovery. Patrol cops begin to see signs of possibile gang warfare.
1. Chapter 1

"Item thirteen! Item thirteen! Can we please keep it down?" Det. Lt. Henry Goldblume asks of the usual rowdy men and women during roll call. Finally they hush. "That's better. This is a memo from Division."

Cops and detectives give a collective groan as their response.

"I know. I know. As I was saying, from Division. They want us to keep a closer watch on…"

"Babysitting!" One officer yells.

The room erupts into laughter.

Goldblume can see it's no use trying to contain the room's enthusiasm. He can only agree with them, hoping they'll calm down. "Babysitting. Right, Monroe. Anyway, what they want us to do is keep a closer watch on the blocks between 113th and 116th St. Kids have been loitering around the parking lots during the day, and the outlook doesn't look good. We could be seeing more gangs forming. I'm not happy about this at all, but we gotta keep our streets clean. It's been two years since we last saw serious gang activity. Don't think it can't happen again." He puts a finger up for emphasis. "It probably will. We'll have three sets of officers patrolling the area. Rollins, Churnowsky, Wayne, Monroe…because you love Division so much. Last but not least, Hill and Renko."

The sound of Styrofoam catches various officers attention. They glance over. An aroma gets quicker attention. Several more heads peek up from in back of the room.

"Item fourteen. Homicides have been down by thirty-two percent. Now, I don't know if it's the weather which has calmed down the overall crime rate or people are…just…" Goldblume's eyes scan the room as he hears some satisfied moaning and sucking sounds going on. "…happy." He looks slightly further back. "Sgt. Bates?"

Sgt. Lucy Bates looks up with her mouth full of greasy BBQ ribs, slowly sucking on a finger. When all eyes are on her, she asks, "Whabt?" She looks around.

Det. Neal Washington chews on his toothpick, looking at her while shaking his head.

Goldblume asks awkwardly, "Uh, Sgt. Bates? Would you care to share?"

Slowly she licks two more fingers. Equally as awkward with everybody watching she reveals, "Um, Mortimer's Grill out in West Ferry. They just had a grand opening and their ribs are delicious!" She continues to eat. "Now, I'm not knockin' the place at the north end of town which should go unnamed due to some unscrupulous activity, but Lieutenant? These_ are_ the best."

Officer Bobby Hill remarks to his partner, Andy Renko, "Lucy can put away more food than you, cowboy."

"There's a time and a place, Bobby."

Goldblume smirks at Bates' response, beginning to lighten up a little. "And that mention of food products takes us into item fifteen. That is, Det. Mick Belker is doing undercover at Peterson's Fish Market off of Delaney and 5th St. Two loan sharks and some highly suspicious activity of organized crime are said to be running what once was the best fish supplier in town. Prices have skyrocketed where some restaurants can't pay what they're asking on the market. Only restaurants that serve one hundred dollar wine and premiere steakhouses could afford it."

As soon as Bates is finished with her ribs, she looks nearby to see Officer Garcia has a cinnamon roll sitting on wax paper untouched. She tries to ask him about it. Goldblume notices her harassment of the officer's breakfast. Garcia pulls to the other side of his desk. Goldblume bristles at the sight, trying to stay focused on the roll call.

"Last but not least, item fifteen. "Jefferson Junior High School is looking for anybody who is willing to participate in a benefit hockey game organized by none other than our favorite down at the Y, Mr. Dudley R. Hicks."

Officer Rollins yells out, "From punk to puck!"

The room erupts into laughter.

Hill contains his giggling, "Hey, Lt.! How about you? You got blades of fury, or so I've heard."

Goldblume grins back sheepishly. "I'm not that good, Bobby. Trust me."

Bates quietly says to Garcia, "That's 'cause he's never tried."

Garcia answers back, "Sgt. you are not going to have that cinnamon roll."

Goldblume stares at her as he says, "Alright. That's it. Free to go."

The officers start getting up. Several pack up their breakfast items, when he shouts out, "Hey!"

Everybody freezes.

"Remember, let's roll and let's be careful out there."

All of the officers and detectives start leaving. Bates walks directly in back of a detective. "Hey, Hebner. Come on. You've still got a half a bagel."

"Sgt., what I do with it is my business. Whether I eat it or throw it away."

"C'mon. You're letting good food go to waste!" She answers in a perturbed tone. Then she spots Officer Bradford. "What are you gonna do with that croissant? I saw it just sittin' there."

Bradford turns to her. "Lucy, weren't you dining on ribs a few minutes ago? Give me a break!" He starts up the stairs.

Renko says, "Sweet Lucy, you'll be lookin' like me before you know it."

Hill adds in, "Yeah, and you don't want to look as fat and ugly as him."

Renko points a wary finger. "Hey! Don't you start with me, Bobby Hill!"

"I believe that's _donut_ you start…cowboy."

"Ha ha ha. Very funny." Renko answers in mock indignation as he goes up the stairs.

On the main floor, Bates continues to try and talk fellow officers into giving her some of their breakfast.

"Hey, come on fellas."

They pass her by, ignoring her pleads. Lt. Howard Hunter of the Emergency Action Team steps up to her. "What seems to be the problem, Lucy?"

"I don't know. I'm still feeling depressed. Now, it seems like all I do is eat and sleep. I comfort myself with food when I shouldn't. It's just…so hard."

Hunter drops his head down. "I know. We're all still feeling a lot of pain. Well, I'm sure this… If I may… This…phase you're going through will pass."

Her eyes meet the floor. "I guess so."

"Move it, fish face!" Det. Mick Belker pushes a man in a suit over to the main office desk. "Belker," he announced, dropping his gun on the desk. Officer Raymond reaches for it, placing it elsewhere in back.

"I demand a lawyer!" The man yells.

"And I demand you to SHUT UP!" Belker yells louder.

Capt. Frank Furillo walks in, noticing the detective's catch.

"Got one?"

Belker turns around. "Uh, yeah. Vincenzo Scarpolli. He's one of the two loan sharks for the Mortimer's Market."

Furillo edges away from Belker who reeks of stale fish. "Good going, Mick."

"Thanks, Captain." The scruffy detective smiles back. Then he grabs Scarpolli by the back of his collar and drags him over to booking. "Come on, spittoon face. Or I'll have to walk you like a dog."

"You're the one who was growling at me!" Scarpolli yells back.

They start to walk ahead when Bates quickly notices. She lifts her head, taking in the smell. Entranced as though it were perfume, she stands in awe. "What is that aroma?"

Belker stops. "Aroma? Don't you mean _smell_?"

A few officers stop to see what will happen.

"That tantalizing fragrance."

"It's fish, Sarge." Belker answers mixed with a smile and confusion in his eyes.

"I know. I want to cover you in lemon butter." She answers with hungry passion.

Belker's sheepish smile cancels. "What's wrong with you, Sarge?"

Det. Washington watches from afar. He chews his toothpick and shakes his head.

Bates suddenly realizes all is not well with her. Quietly she slips away to do some paper work.

Hunter takes a whiff of the air. He makes a sour face as he nears Belker.

"Mick, you stink!"

Belker gives a satisfied smile. "Thank you, Lieutenant!"


	2. Chapter 2

Bates knocks at the captain's door.

"Come in, Lucy."

She walks in slowly, wondering what he'll say. "You wanted to see me, Captain?"

"Close the door." He tells her.

After closing it, she waits for further instructions.

"Lucy, I have several complaints from other officers that you were harassing them about food? Is that right?"

"It wasn't harassment, Captain. I was merely asking them if they were going to finish something. A cinnamon roll. Half a bagel."

"You were seen during roll call eating a quarter of leftover barbecue ribs?" He asks with confusion. "It's not exactly the kind of food people normally have at 6:30 in the morning."

"I know." Bates answers in a defeated tone, slumping in the chair. "And I have no real excuses. It's just that… I'm still feeling depressed."

"Lucy, I gave you a week off."

"I know and I'm thankful but uh, I gotta tell you, one week isn't gonna erase what I feel. These two guys I worked with…and especially J.D. I've known…" She closes her eyes in grief. "I mean I _knew_ him for a while."

Furillo feels at a loss what else to say. "As for this eating phase…"

"It's not like me. I don't know. It's got somethin' to do with the depression. This weekend all I did was sleep and eat and use the bathroom frequently. I couldn't do anything with Fabian. Not to mention I feel bloated."

"That might go with eating a lot."

"I don't know what's going on. I've been thinking of getting it checked out."

The captain pulls out a sheet of paper from a small notepad. "I'm going to suggest you see department appointed Dr. William Murphy at Mercy. Just have him write up whatever it is and we'll take care of it from there."

"Maybe it's nothing." She answers nonchalantly.

"Maybe it's more serious than what you think."

"Thanks, Captain. I'll be back as good as new." She says, convincing herself. Then she leaves his office.

Furillo looks out his office. "Uh, Henry? Can I see you?"

"Yeah. Let me just finish writing all the assignments."

"Have you seen Neal around?" The captain asks.

"I saw him a few minutes ago."

Bates finishes using the stall inside the ladies room. Slowly she approaches the sink. Then she catches sight of her reflection. Still feeling uncomfortable, the sergeant holds in her stomach. She notices something not quite right. Officer Chen goes to join her at the sink. Bates looks at her while washing her hands. "Are they making these uniforms smaller for us?"

Officer Chen shrugs and leaves. Bates turns to see nobody else is around. So, she goes back to examining her figure. She pulls tightly at her blouse in front, wincing at how sensitive her chest feels.

Inside Furillo's office, he talks with Det. Washington.

"Neal, I'm wondering if you could tell me how your knee is doing?" "Seems to be better. Doin' without the pills for now. Been tryin' to use physical therapy and seems like it works."

"Maybe it's too soon to ask. How do you feel about going back out in the street for an assignment?"

Washington mulls it over. "I don't know. Haven't done anything since, without J.D."

"We just caught a homicide on 115th. And I very much don't think a rookie would be able to handle this case."

"Bad?"

"Uh, yes. _Very_. Or so I'm told."

"Who did you have in mind?"

"Henry. Neal, you're not expected to go chasing the suspect through the streets."

Washington nods his head. "Okay."

Furillo gives a small smile as the detective leaves his office. Washington passes by Bates. She smells something nearby which sickens her. Looking up, she sees Lt. Hunter standing over her with a coffee mug.

"Got everything under control, Sgt. Bates?"

"No. But…" She whiffs the air again. "…I should soon. I got an appointment with the doctor in about a half an hour. What is that?"

"What's what?"

"That horrible smell?"

Hunter lifts his mug, turning his back. "It's just coffee. I think some new French blend. You never know with your foreign types. You know it's typical for young children to start drinking wine when they're below the age of ten." He turns back to her. "Bates, have you ever heard of a kid…?"

She disappears.

"Bates?" He asks, looking around.

The only sign of her whereabouts is marked by the ladies room door shut in the distance.

Hill and Renko patrol their assigned area. Renko turns to his partner. "Bobby, what do you thinks' been eatin' Lucy lately?"

Hill keeps his eyes on the road while driving. "I think that should be, what has Lucy been eating lately? The answer to that is _everything_."

"She's been actin' real weird lately."

"Depression has a funny way of showin' up. Take for instance when my daddy died."

"You didn't like your daddy. Hell, I didn't like mine either. Didn't mean I was gonna eat everything in sight?"

"No. You always do that, cowboy."

"I don't know, Bobby. It's like I've seen it happen before. Only,…with…Daryl…Ann." Renko's jaw drops. He shakes himself out of a though. "Oh my lord…"

"What about Daryl Ann?"

Renko stiffens. "I'd rather not say. Change of subject. I'm thinkin' about possibly tryin' out for that hockey benefit."

"You?" Hill asks before chuckling. "I think you better lose a little of that teddy bear figure of yours if you want to try to ice skate or you're liable to fall flat on your face."

"Oh, is that a fact?" Renko asks insulted, puffing out his chest.

"Whoa. Partner, I think we just found a hornet's nest."

They slowly drive by five teenagers hanging around on the street corner. Hill pauses the car in front of them. He sticks his head out of the window.

"Anything seem to be the problem?"

"No."

"I see a problem. It's…" Hill picks up his sleeve to check the time. "…ten o'clock. Shouldn't you be in school?"

A Puerto Rican boy says, "Uh, yeah." He mocks coughing. "I think I caught a cold."

"Then somebody's gotta call your parents."

Another kid looks past Hill, at Renko. "Hey, look! It's the Salt and Pepper Squad. Hey man, shouldn't you two be on the other side of town? Unless you be lookin' for nachos!"

Renko steps out of the car, staring at the youths. "You be lookin' at juvy, boy. I'll give you a sportin' chance. You vamoose your little hides back to that there school and you ain't ever seen us. How's that?"

The teens look at each other. Two shake their heads. They turn and walk away. The other three give Hill and Renko dirty looks before following their friends.

Renko waits for the five to leave before he gets back in the car.

Hill says, "Sometimes they need some strong persuasion."

"Small initiative, Bobby Hill. Small initiative."


	3. Chapter 3

Lt. Goldblume and Det. Washington climb up the stairs of a fifth floor apartment. They look up to hear various voices. When they reach the designated floor, they're met with police photographers, two patrolmen, and a few other investigators. Everybody notices the shields they wear. A medical examiner shakes his head pitifully. Goldblume eyes an investigator.

"Sanchez, what have you got?"

The lightly graying haired investigator rubs his mustache. "Really bad one." He walks Goldblume over to a blood spattered wall. There they find a heavily pregnant woman slumped over with patches of dark blood along her body, including the stomach. "Lisa Corgan. Mid-thirties. And from the M.E.'s estimate, anywhere from 32 to 38 weeks pregnant."

Goldblume lets out a deep sigh. "Dear God."

Washington shakes his head. He notices the M.E. walk into a small bedroom. He steps at the threshold, not wanting to move another inch when he sees another victim on the bed. A very small boy drenched in splotches of blood lays motionless. The only thing that stands out are the little teddy bears on his pajamas. Washington runs a hand down his own face, feeling nothing but grief. The M.E. sees the detective at the doorway.

"Three years old. Didn't even have enough time to react."

Washington lets out a deep breath as he drops his head against the doorway frame.

Goldblume is led to a photographer on the scene who stoops down taking pictures. Sanchez looks at the item in question. "Eight inch hunting knife. Serrated. Matches the wounds. She has defensive wounds on her hands too. She saw it coming and she tried to defend herself."

"Who did this?" Goldblume quietly asks.

Nobody answers.

"I said, who did this?" He asks more forcefully.

"They're questioning him right now. In the bathroom."

Goldblume makes his way past two uniformed officers. There, sitting on the closed toilet is a man with blood caked on his white T-shirt. Washington looks through the man's wallet. James Patrick Corgan. Forty."

"I heard them. They were calling out my name. I had to do something. _Something_." Corgan shakily answers.

Goldblume stoops down to look at Corgan's face. "Sir, who was calling you?"

"_Them_. All of them. They were readying their weapons. They were coming for me. I heard them in the bushes. All of my guns were taken from me. I saw the knife. Boy, and I waited."

Goldblume looks at the man with confusion. He glances back at the two officers near the doorway. "Cuff him and take him to the car."

"He's already cuffed."

"Just bring him to the car."

Corgan is led away by the officers. He spots the blood on the walls. "Billy! Billy! Look what they made me do!"

Goldblume gives a heavy sigh. "He's unstable. It's like he doesn't even remember his wife."

"Henry!" Washington calls out.

"What is it Neal?"

Washington lifts a framed picture from the wall in the living room. Inside is a small medallion and certificate.

Goldblume reads it. "James Patrick Corgan. Medal of Valor. 43rd Battalion in Nha Trang. 1970." He turns to look at the M.E. putting a sheet over the victim while the little boy's body is wheeled away. Quietly he mutters to himself. "Son of a bitch. A Vietnam veteran."

Bates straightens her tie nervously at the office of Dr. Murphy.

"So, you've been feeling ill lately?"

She tries to find the right words. "Not really sick. Sort of different though. I can't stop eating. But I chalk that up to depression. Uh, two guys I worked with… Fatalities. It was a car crash. So, uh, I've been taking it really hard. Then just today I discovered I've got an aversion to coffee. You know in my line of work that doesn't happen. I've always liked coffee."

The doctor feels around her stomach. "Feeling a little soft in the middle?"

"Now that you mention it, I feel like I'm growing out of this uniform, but that's what happens when one eats too…"

The doctor touches around her chest.

"Hey! Touch me there one more time and I'll send you to the emergency room. Got that?" She objects with a wary finger. Thinking better about it, she tells him, "I have been feeling sensitive _there_ lately." Bates looks down. "I don't know what's wrong with me. All I did was sleep and eat during the weekend." So, uh, is this where you tell me to pee in a little cup?"

Dr. Murphy ignores her last statement. He stays focused. "Lucy, you said your friends fatalities was recent? How long ago?"

"A month and a half." She looks up, trying to stay strong.

"When was your last cycle? You know? Period?"

"I have no idea. Sometime last month…I think." She smirks.

"Have you taken any medication? Pills of any sort? Birth control?"

"No. Nothing." She looks at him hopeful. "So, Doc? Does this mean I've got a clean bill of health?"

"I have one more question before I do any tests on you."

In a blasé tone she answers. "Sure. Go ahead."

"When was the last time you were with somebody intimately?"

"If you're askin' me when the last time I had…" She turns her head, wanting to avoid the answer. "Six weeks." In a fraction of a second she stops and stares ahead.

Hill and Renko return to the station where they find Belker once again at the main desk, handing in his gun and holding onto the collar of a man dressed casually.

"Belker."

Renko approaches the detective apprehensively as he reeks of fish. "What's that you caught, Mick?"

"Oh, uh second loan shark."

"How long did that take you?"

"Four hours. Why you askin'?"

"Mere curiosity, Mick."

Hill watches Bates return back to the station. She walks by him without saying anything. He says to both Renko and Belker. "Lucy sure is actin' funny today. First all that eating. Now she acts like nobody exists."

"Tell me about it. She said she wanted me in lemon butter." Belker grins.

Furillo talks on the phone in his office. "No Chief. I don't know what's going on with the kids on the street. Yeah. I know." He turns to see Bates is standing outside his door. "I'll let you know as soon as my men have something to tell me. Alright. Talk to you then. Bye." With a beckoning finger, he summons the sergeant in.

"What can I do for you, Lucy?"

"I need to talk to you about something." She says in a quiet tone.

"Did you go to the doctor like I told you to?"

Bates moves her jaw around as though she really wants to say something. "Uh, I'm gonna need time off."

"Okay. Just let me know ahead of time."

"During the holidays."

"That is ahead of time. Lucy, that's at the end of the year. It's only the end of April. Is there a reason?"

"Yeah. Maternity."

"It's a funny way of saying guardianship of Fabian."

"It's not for him." She takes a deep breath. "It's for me. I'm pregnant."

A smile creeps on the captain's face. "Lucy? That's…great. Congratulations!"

"Yeah, well. It's not the kind of news you expect to hear. Captain? I don't know if I'm ready for this."

"Lucy, you'll be a wonderful mother."

"I mean…there are _options_. But, uh, thanks."

She begins to leave.

"Phil wanted kids. He thought he was going to have one with Grace. Philip Freemason Esterhaus Jr. He never had that chance."

Slowly she turns her head before leaving.

Goldblume knocks on the office door. Washington watches Bates walk by. "Hey, Sarge? Can you do me a favor and look up a report?"

Bates answers quietly, "Not now. Okay, Neal? Have somebody else do it."

She shuffles off as he looks on in concern.

"Wonder what's botherin' her? I know what's botherin' me. This whole case and your attitude, Henry."

"I have been stating facts."

"All the way back to the station you haven't been able to keep your mouth shut about this."

"This is my job, Neal. What am I supposed to do?"

Furillo steps outside his office. He lets them through his door.

"I got a call from Lt. Sanchez of downtown. They're holding your suspect…"

Washington corrects him. "_Murderer._"

"Okay. Uh, murderer in their custody. Is there any particular reason why he's being booked there and not here?"

"I told Sanchez it wouldn't be a good idea to put him up here."

"And that reason being?"

"He's a child killer."

"Neal?" Goldblume tries to plead.

"Someone like that wouldn't sit well with the rest of the population in those cells. Could cause a riot too."

"And I take it Henry doesn't agree with you?" Furillo asks in curiosity.

Washington eyes the floor, shaking his head.

"I can answer that for myself. I am here." Goldblume testily answers.

Furillo looks at the lieutenant. "Henry? I'd like a moment with Neal."

"Sure. I can see you have your mind made up before all the facts are taken into account." Goldblume leaves in a huff.

The captain glances outside the door as he shuts it.

"Uh, Henry doesn't agree with you. Why is that?"

Washington edgily answers. "The facts? The facts are this. A man butchered his family. A pregnant wife well beyond fetal rights and a three year old son. Frank, I'm tellin' you, man. I saw it with my own eyes. That little boy. Lying so still. Blood all over his teddy bear pajamas. Do you think he asked for his father to puncture him with an eight inch…" He holds his mouth, steadying his shaky breaths. "I ask you, what kind of a parent does something so monstrous like that?" He clears his eyes. "Goldblume is trying to make up some cockamamie story of how we should feel sorry for this man and his mental disorder… This child murderer."

"I have news for you Neal. Sanchez said he was surprised at hearing some of the things coming from Goldblume, himself. I believe he said _disappointed_."

"That goes for me too, Frank."

"Neal, just calm down for a little bit. After that, I want you to see if there was anything on the subject we could use in court."

Washington nods, picking out a toothpick as if it were a cigarette.

"Oh, and send Henry back in."

Furillo waits for the exchange of detectives. Goldblume rushes back inside the office, closing the door without being asked. "Frank, let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain, Henry."

"I'm doing my job. Will you let me finish at least?"

Furillo arches his brows in surprise at how insistent the lieutenant is.

"James Patrick Corgan. He's a Vietnam veteran who served his time in Nha Trang in 1970. He's a war hero, Frank. I saw the Medal of Honor he received."

"Are you forgetting why you were there, Henry?"

"No. But, we have to look at all of the facts. He might not have been in the right frame of mine."

"That's not a fact. That's a _suspicion_. Are you trying to say this is an insanity defense? You're _not_ a lawyer. You _don't_ work as a P.D., Henry. You're a _cop_. You don't get to play psychiatrist when you don't have all the facts." Furillo growls, "You certainly don't do it on my time!" He calms down long enough to add, "Sanchez called and said he was very disappointed in your actions today."

"I did…"

"He said, you didn't even bother looking in the bedroom to see the boy even when you were asked. You were busy drooling over some framed picture. I had Neal come in here and he had a hard time describing what he saw and he presented the facts. That's what we do. We present facts and bring them to a lawyer where they then bring it to a judge who serves it to a jury."

"I know how the judicial system works, Frank. I'm not stupid! Am I not allowed an opinion. I see you judging people all the time. You judge all of us. Sometimes without the facts. Suddenly, I have something to say and I'm not allowed to even think it. Well, dammit Frank, I'm gonna say it whether you like it or not! P.T.S.D.!" Goldblume calms down quickly. "That's what I think he has."

Furillo answers with no emotion. "Tell Neal I want to see him again." He looks down, too ashamed to even glance up at the detective lieutenant.

Goldblume can't get through the captain. He disappears out the door.

"Yeah, Captain?" Washington says.

Furillo exhales deeply. "I want you to find out if Corgan had a psychiatrist. You know it won't be easy to get the records. Get a warrant if you have to. Henry thinks he might have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I want to find out for sure what we're dealing with. A calculated maniac or a head case?" He sees Washington is eager to leave. "One more thing, Neal. Don't take Henry with you."

"Understood."

Belker finishes writing out an arrest report, when he notices Sgt. Bates looking depressed as she organizes some files.

"Hey, Sarge, I was thinkin' with all this fish business that you, me, and Robin haven't had dinner in a real long time. I figure we can go to the little restaurant nearby. Prices should go down by then."

"Thanks Mick, but I don't feel much like going anywhere. Besides, I wouldn't want to be a third wheel."

"Oh no. I was figurin' you could be Philip's date."

She lets out a snicker of amusement. "Wow. That's really thoughtful of you, Mick."

"Who knows. He might even share his sippy cup with you." He chuckles.

"Really sweet of you, but I think I'll pass. Somethin' I'm goin' through and I got a lot of thinkin' to do on it."

"If you need any help, I'm here for you, Sarge." He says with a sweet smile.

"Thanks, Mick, but, uh, this is a female thing."

"Oh." He nods his head. "Okay." His eyes glance towards the rest of the squad room with an idea in mind.

Goldblume and Washington bicker nearby.

"I can't _believe_ you're making excuses for him!" Washington expresses.

Goldblume says, "For the thousandth time. I am not making excuses. There can be other things that go on with one's psyche."

Washington stops. "You call carvin' up an eight month pregnant wife and three year old son a problem with psyche? I call it what it is. And that is a psychotic maniac. You bet your life he's got problems."

"Maybe it's not worth talking to you. Maybe I should talk to Howard."

"Yeah? You do that!" Washington shouts as he leaves the double doors.

Belker receives a phone call.

"Hi, honey. Oh, just great. I think the price on fish should be going down real soon." He laughs. "Yeah! How did you guess? Come on. That obvious? Oh? You are? Sure thing. See you soon. I love you too and give little Philip a big smooch for me. Bye."


	4. Chapter 4

Furillo says aloud in his office, "I wish I had Phil or Ray to talk with."

Lt. Hunter peeks in when he hears the captain's woeful line.

"Uh, Frank?"

The captain pulls his hands away from his face. "Yes, Howard?"

"I couldn't help but overhear." Hunter clears his throat releasing the pipe in his mouth. "Something troubling you, Frank?"

"There's a lot I'm dealing with right now. A case about a man who slaughtered his own family. Henry and Neal are at each others throat about it. I should have never paired those two in the first place. I have a pregnant officer. There's another rooting ground for potential gang warfare. Chief Briscoe is worried that treaties won't work this time. There isn't a cooler head like Jesus Martinez. Plus, I'm still numb over Ray and J.D. And can somebody tell Mick he needs a shower? I'm smelling fish all over the station."

"Quite the load, ol' sport. You know what you need, Frank? A nice vacation. One of those spa getaways."

"Who would you suppose I should put on duty in lieu of my absence?"

"Well, that would be the next down in chain of command." Howard gives a big Cheshire Cat grin.

"Really, Howard?" Furillo smirks.

"Really, Frank."

"What would happen if there were a major hostage situation?"

"Then, get Goldblume. He's the brains around here. Besides, somebody has to protect the station. Feed him to the wolves."

"What if even the wolves didn't want him?"

"Frank, you're not thinking of getting rid of Goldblume, are you?"

"No, but I sometimes wonder if he thinks he's above the police department. He can't seem to reconcile facts with his own assessments. Therefore he always feels he's right and can't see things any other way."

Washington walks through a doctor's office. He chews his toothpick, looking around. The receptionist catches sight of him.

"Yes? May I help you, sir?"

"Yeah." He pulls out his shield. "Neal Washington. Is Dr. Heben here?"

"Uh, yes. Hold on one moment please."

A doctor pokes his head out of a nearby door. "Carol? Who's the next appointment?"

Washington steps up, presenting his badge. "I am. Det. Neal Washington. Hill Street. I got a warrant and a few questions."

Dr. Heben answers curiously, "Please. Come in, detective."

"I'm here about one of your patients. James Patrick Corgan." Washington pulls out a folded paper. "I got a warrant. Two in one day."

"Corgan? I haven't heard that name in a while."

"Records, doctor?"

"Jim Corgan hasn't been here in two years. If he's the same one I'm thinking of. What's the problem?"

"He murdered his wife and children."

"Oh my God." The doctor thinks for a minute. "The warrant won't be necessary. Corgan said he started having flashbacks. A few years ago, just before he got married. I think her name was Lisa?" Washington nods back. "That's just awful. He told me off the record he had problems and thought they were controlled by the time he got married. I told him there weren't too many drugs that were discovered yet. The only thing I could suggest which has been tested is serotonin. It's an anti-depressant. He um, he didn't like the idea of taking medication and was afraid things…side effects could occur."

"Dr. Heben, would you be willing to testify to your findings if need be? They might try and make this into an insanity case."

"The only thing insane is that a man would kill his family. Sure, he lived an isolated existence until Lisa came along."

"He what?" Washington pulls out a small notebook, jotting down items.

"Jim lived an isolated existence. He knew he couldn't be around the general population, until he got better. It seemed like he was doing okay on his own. He saw several of his own platoon murdered in cold blood. Said he was twenty at the time."

"Guns? Rifles?"

"Knives. Big seven to eight inch ones."

"He was given a Medal of Honor."

"Not for that. The medal was for saving another platoon and gunning down half a dozen of the enemy."

Inside the station, Hunter observes Sgt. Bates and her demeanor as she works on papers.

"Uh, Lucy? I had a discussion in the captain's office. He said something that got me thinking. Your little episode earlier with the coffee? Was that for a reason? I mean, it wasn't the French Roast? It could be the Italian blend. It could be any?"

"I suppose."

"The captain said there was an officer who was…well, I won't say it too loud, but…_with child_."

"And why are you talking to me about this?"

"There's normally some association between women who eat a lot and yet are turned off by some foods. Why even some smells. You know, Lucy. The nose is a very sensitive instrument. The way it transmits waves through the nasal passage up to the cranium. It's really a fascinating…"

"What are you? A doctor now?" Bates answers huffily.

"Lucy, I'm just concerned for another officer's welfare." He smiles.

"Do me a favor and just stay out of my _welfare_!" She slams a file cabinet, getting people's attention.

She makes a mad dash into the ladies room, as Hunter calls out, "Lucy, we can talk about it."

The door shuts behind her.

Hunter arches his brows, then starts to turn when Robin Belker shows up.

"Hi, Howard!" Robin says gleefully.

"Hello to you, Mrs. Belker. And how is that darling little sprig of yours?"

"Philip? He's doing great. Yeah. So, I'll talk to you later."

Robin goes to meet up with her husband. He studies a file.

"Uh, officer? I'd like to report a missing husband."

"Oh?" He frowns then looks up. "Honey!" A big smile comes across his face.

She smiles back. "Hey." Then she smells something. "Ooh, Mick. I think you've been taking this fish thing a little too seriously."

"What?" He asks.

"You're reeking. I mean, _seriously_ reeking." Robin stands inches away to talk. "So, I was thinking we could all go out for pizza afterwards."

"Yeah. Sounds good to me. Hey, uh, honey, uh, do you think… I mean, is it possible for you to talk to Lucy?"

"Sure. Why?"

"I don't know. She's been down in the dumps for a while and she's just not acting like her usual self. You know, she was actually turned on by the fish smell."

"Really?" She answers surprised.

"Yeah. When I asked her about it, she told me it's a female thing. So…"

"You figure since I'm a female, she'll talk with me? Then I'll find out and report back to you?"

Sheepishly Belker answers, "Well, yeah."

"I'll see. Do you know where she is?"

"Ladies room. She's been going in and out of there all day."

"Okay. I'll do some investigating on my own, but I might have to take over and become Det. Belker." She grins.

He smiles back.

Robin walks into the ladies room where she sees Lucy Bates blowing her nose.

"I really did it this time." Bates says, knowing Robin Belker is present.

"Did what, Lucy?"

"What was the first thing they told us in the academy?"

"Um, don't get involved with your partner."

"And, I never did. Sure. I thought about it, but I didn't act on it. I mean, some ten years ago I was thrilled to finally go out there and be a real cop in the streets with a partner. Then I got Joe and boy, did I have the hots for him. But a little voice in my head said, 'Don't do it. Remember the job means more to you than some hot lookin' guy. Tall, dark, and handsome. After Joe got killed, there was Patrick. Another one. Tall, dark, and handsome. I took my chances and tried to sort of ask him out. That didn't work. So, I went by the rules. I didn't sleep with either of them."

"And, that's a good thing, right?"

"Yeah. So, why did I wind up like this?" Bates looks in the mirror. 'Cause I got nobody else to blame but myself. Not him. Me. I made the first move. He was there and I took complete advantage of that. I didn't want to be alone that night. I got ditched by a guy who chose some young little brunette Barbie doll." She lets out a small cry. "It's not fair. And he's gone."

"Lucy? Who are you talking about? Who's gone?"

"Six weeks ago. That's all it took."

"Wasn't that around the time Lt. Calletano and LaRue…" Robin stops to think.

"Ya know, Joe was usually after me. Kept buggin' me about when was I gonna start a family. And how we could start one together. He said he wanted kids. I gave him excuse after lousy excuse. I was scared. The world we live in today? This neighborhood? Who'd want to?"

"You're pregnant, aren't you?" Robin brightens with a smile.

"Yeah." Bates squeaks with a cry, grabbing another tissue from the dispenser. "I've guaranteed this kid a single parent."

"The father's _deceased_?" Robin asks, putting everything together.

"I had to wind up with the most obnoxious, insane, trouble-prone, romantically addicted, charming, playboy that's ever been seen on the Hill. Dummy me said, 'Lucy, you've gotta have him. Once."

Robin looks down making the connection. A large smile grows on her face as she asks, "LaRue? Is that who you're talking about? I can't think of one other person who fits that description. Is it?"

Bates hides her face in the paper towel. She nods back furiously.

"Wow. I mean, wow. J.D. LaRue. Who would ever think?"

"I knew him for a long time. Longer than Furillo or even Neal." Bates reveals. "I just didn't know how good he was." She wipes her nose.

"Good?" Robin asks out of curiosity.

"He was_ incredible_." Bates answers, closing her eyes.

"I thought the food thing I was going through was just depression. Then I started feeling different and I can't stand the smell of coffee."

Robin starts laughing. "Yep. Definitely pregnant. I had some strange cravings and some things I didn't like. I couldn't touch things I loved because they would make me literally sick. Funny now, but sad before. I would start crying when Mick would bring over some pork chops. I had to tell him I couldn't eat them." Bates shakes her head in wonderment of it all. Robin notices her demeanor. "Hey, Lucy. I'm not gonna judge you, or J.D. for that matter."

"I really don't think he would have cared. He wasn't about to change. I'd still be a single parent even if he were alive today."

"Hey, remember when I first came on the scene? I kept askin' you about Mick? You told me he wouldn't go for it. That he liked to be alone. How about that time when I asked you at Mulligan's if he ever came by, and you told me he didn't? Then he showed up and shocked you and Joe. Well? See? My odds with Mick were pretty low by everybody's standards. Look what happened though? He and I got married and we have Philip. Anything can happen, Lucy. People can change."

"Not J.D. He couldn't change. Sometimes I wonder, but then I get out of my fantasy world. Ya know, it just seems like the big man upstairs is pulling a cruel trick on me. Bait and switch. I get to trade in J.D. who I miss so much, for this little stranger I don't know what to do with."

"Lucy, don't kick yourself over it. Just think of it this way. What you're carrying is an extension of J.D. He wasn't meant to be a part of all this in the way you were hoping. He gave you a precious gift. This little baby is your opportunity. You said so yourself that you wanted to eventually have a family. Go on your mission. Have them. You've got Fabian. Hey, you've conquered handling a teenager so far. I can only imagine what that's like"

"I'm forty going on forty-one real soon. What do I know about babies? I don't even know anything about diapers. A teenager is different. I can communicate with him and know what language he's speaking. A tiny little person is so foreign. What with the crying and non-verbal gurgling. Then I have to wonder if it's going to be a LaRue or a Bates. I don't know if I'm ready for any of that. All I can think of is, _cop_. Of course."

Robin thinks something over before she looks Bates in the eyes. "I'm gonna tell you something, Lucy. I never even told Mick. I didn't feel he had to know because of family relations. My mom was no spring chicken when she had me. She had an affair with a cop when she was married. Then I came along. My dad was a cop and I turned out to be one too. I didn't turn out too bad, did I?"

Bates shakes her head. "No." She continues, "I've already missed out on the first six weeks. I've done all the horrible things I shouldn't have. I've had a few drinks. Been around smokers. Eaten everything that's greasy and fatty. Flooded my system with coffee. I didn't go to a doctor until today. No prenatal vitamins. No guidance. Nothing."

Robin takes hold of the sergeant's face. "You're going to be a _great_ mom."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. You're a good person, Lucy. You just need to remember that."

Bates wipes away a tear. "Thank you."

The two women hug. Bates says, "Uh, one thing. If you tell anyone, can you leave out the part of paternity? I'd rather let that be known on my own time."

"Sure."

"Thanks." Bates answers with a deep breath.

Belker takes a peek around the corner when both Sgt. Bates and his wife leave the ladies room, giggling. Bates goes back to the filing cabinet. Robin returns to talk with her husband.

"You were right, Mick. It was a female thing. Oh, and I wouldn't worry too much about her going after you as food. It's a normal thing."

"Normal?"

"Remember that time you set up the really nice dinner of pork chops and I started crying?"

"Yeah? But, that's because you…" His eyes go wide. "Lucy's pregnant?"

"Shhhhhh! Mick. Keep it down." Robin whispers.

Nearby, Goldblume goes over to Hunter. Washington returns to the station in time to see the persistent lieutenant try and recruit people for his cause. He shakes his head when he goes to the captain's office.

"Come in." Furillo calls out.

Washington walks in. "I went back to the apartment and tried to find enough evidence, but I gotta tell you, the man doesn't have much. Found a book about psychology and discovered a piece of paper in it. Was for a Dr. Heben. He's a psychologist. Made sure I got a warrant for both properties."

"Dr. Heben?"

"I talked with him. He told me plenty without the warrant. Said he hadn't seen Corgan in over two years. Knew he was married. From what I gathered things were goin' okay for him. Then around the time he married Lisa, things started happening to him. Flashbacks."

"So, it was PTSD."

"There's more to it. Heben strongly suggested Corgan get some medication. Serotonin. He refused though. Wanted to go cold turkey."

"We can't let him have an insanity plea. Corgan refused the help, setting the wheels in motion for a very heinous crime. If he thinks he's got a chance, with a triple homicide? No deal."

"How are we gonna handle this one?"

"If we can make a case that because of his refusal to get the help he needed, it was possibly premeditated. If we can figure out when he purchased the weapon, that would make our case stronger. Normal people don't buy hunting knives if they're not hunters. Usually in an urban city it's guns that are prime choice. Sure, gangs carry switchblades, but this is entirely different. Corgan knew in the back of his mind he was going to use that knife some day. Neal, I want you and Henry to go visit Mr. Corgan at the downtown station. See what his frame of mind is like before we can make any further assessments."

"Okay, Captain."

Washington walks out of the captain's office into a heated discussion between Lt. Hunter and Goldblume.

"Henry, there's a clear difference between being a veteran, defending one's country and being an outward maniac."

"Do you know about PTSD?"

"Post-traumatic Syndrome Disorder? Yes. But, I've never heard about any of my comrades who butchered their family in the name of some mental disorder. He's deranged in the cerebellum."

Furillo pokes his head out of the office door.

"Only more reason to get him help. If he can be rehabilitated…" Goldblume starts.

"Judas H. Priest, man! Do you hear yourself, Goldblume? If he can be rehabilitated then he needs to go to jail!"

"He needs help, Howard. He probably didn't even know what he was doing. What do we do? Lock him in a cage with all the other animals to show everybody else, including our judicial system that it's okay to not treat the mentally ill?"

Howard yells out, "He _is_ an animal, Henry! He deserves to be locked up and have the key thrown away for what he did. The man is a menace to society. He butchered his pregnant wife and three year old son. You want to make excuses because you see him as some war hero? Where's your heart, Henry? You've got two kids yourself. Would you want someone like that having a chance to go free? That's exactly what will happen, my friend." Hunter advises, stepping away.

Washington calls out, "Come on, Henry. We got work to do."

Goldblume grabs his jacket. "Where to?"

"A little visit downtown."

Furillo watches them walk away together, then sees Bates in the clearing. Her gaze drops to the floor while feeling her stomach. He knows she's probably heard every word said. Slowly, he closes the door to the outside world.


	5. Chapter 5

Officers Wayne and Monroe walk in the station with a cuffed suspect. Monroe says to Hill, "Hey, we got one. See? Where you guys were going after the kids, we were going after the bigger fish. This one ain't no juvy either."

"What do you got?" Hill asks.

"Nineteen year old. Javier Elianos. He was hanging around the school. Tried telling us he was waiting for his little brother."

Wayne adds in, "Yeah, until he was acting real suspicious. Managed to find one gram of ice on him."

"One gram? That's not much." Hill says.

"That'll get him a permanent record and something to watch him by if he ever thinks of causing trouble again." Monroe adds in.

"That would be a black eye." Renko states. "Monroe's right."

Elianos says, "I want one of them lawyers I don't got to pay for."

"Oh, look at that. He wants his P.D. like a mommy. Isn't that cute?" Renko grabs Javier by the collar. "Listen, boy. We ain't playin' with you. You go straight to booking. Then you can suck your thumb all you like while you're in a little playpen on the garden level."

Javier yells back as he's being booked. "You think you got me? Huh?"

Officer Raymond leads him to a cell on the garden level. The door shuts behind him.

Javier calls out from the bars, "I ain't the only one you chumps! You just wait! The El Diablos will rise again! There be a lot more of us. You'll see. Then you'll be sorry you ever messed with me!"

Hill looks back at the other three cops.

"Hear that? That's exactly what we don't want to hear."

Lt. Sanchez leads Goldblume and Washington through a hallway until they reach the main reception area of downtown holding cells. Washington looks around as he hears a buzz. Sanchez says, "You know the drill, fellas. Paperwork. I seriously wonder if this guy has a conscience after what he did."

The processing officer says, "You'll have to hold on, gentlemen. He's got a visitor."

"Who?" Sanchez asks.

"Lawyer."

Public Defender, Joyce Davenport shows up in the station. Furillo beckons her with his finger. She looks at him, then several cops nearby. "Excuse me, gentlemen." Her heels clack on the floor with each step as she walks off to join the captain. He closes the door behind him to his office.

"I have a client waiting for me out there who wants to start trouble."

"He does?"

"Claiming the El Diablos will be back in business. 'Just you wait and see, all you pigs.' Those are his words, not mine. Two of yours caught him soliciting with high school kids. He was brought in due to having one gram. I don't know what kind of charges you can levy against that degenerate, but it's not much. You know he'll be out before the day is over."

"We're keeping our eyes open for potential gang warfare. Whatever we can get them on is fine by me. We'll have them in our system."

She smirks back. "Very clever, Furillo. Now, is that why you wanted to see me?"

"No." He answers, sliding a file to her.

"What's this?"

"I need your opinion on something." He sees she's starting to open it. "Uh, I have to warn you, it's very graphic on the detail."

"I handle cases, Captain. That's my job."

He angles to her. "Suit yourself, counselor."

She starts reading through it. Immediately, she tightens up in an uncomfortable manner. Her brows furrow with confusion and a sense of assault to her mind. With a hard swallow, she releases the file from her hand, dropping it back on the desk. She rubs an eye. "I can't read anymore of this. I certainly hope you're not wanting me to take this case. That is just…awful. I don't think any right-minded PD would want to defend that…_animal_."

"I'm not looking for you to defend him. I just want your honest opinion. I know how hard it is to stomach this report. I had a hard time reading it too."

Davenport says with slight sickness in her voice, "I don't know which is worse? What he did to his three year old son or what he did to the unborn one. There's no justifying for that man's actions."

"He was a war hero with a medal of valor which Goldblume seems to be enamored by. He thinks Corgan deserves a second chance in an institution."

"Goldblume thinks he should plead insanity? No way Furillo. A triple homicide?"

"Corgan has PTSD and refused medication when his psychiatrist suggested he use it. He thought he could go cold turkey."

"Corgan is trying to use a line of BS. Three homicides. The third is for the unborn child. The American Convention on Human Rights states, in Article 4.1. '_Every person has the right to have his life respected. This right shall be protected by law and, in general, from the moment of conception._' I'd say your man gets three consecutive life sentences with possible twenty-five year probation hearing. That's if anybody wants to come to the aid of this sick, twisted, and demented butcher. Why in the hell Goldblume wants to take up this guy's defense of these heinous crimes is beyond me." Furillo looks down as though being scolded. Davenport stares at him with fury in her eyes. "I say, if you attempt to bring the evidence and present it as an insanity defense, then you're opening a very large door for other cases that walk a very fine line between mental illness and criminal behavior."

Furillo clears his throat. "Understood, counselor."

"I hope so."

At the downtown station, Sanchez, Goldblume, and Washington are allowed in. The buzzer goes off and the cell door opens in an automated fashion. Sanchez turns around before the two detectives are allowed inside.

"Neal? I want you to wait here. I've got Henry with me on this."

Washington shrugs his shoulders and watches as the cell door closes.

"Corgan?" Sanchez says. "This is Det. Lt. Henry Goldblume. He wants to talk to you."

"Hi." Corgan says.

"Hi." Goldblume answers.

"You're a cop."

"Yeah. I am. I have to ask you, what happened early this morning?"

Corgan leans back in his chair, moving as though he were wrestling with demons. "They…they were coming for me. I saw the flash in the bushes. The light coming through."

"Uh, James…"

"Jimmy." Corgan corrects him.

"Uh, Jimmy? Are you aware of what happened to your family?"

"They tried to take them from me. I wouldn't let them. I grabbed the knife, waiting. Just waiting. Then they tried and I cut them. I cut them all hard and deep."

Sanchez looks away sickened by Corgan's guilt.

Goldblume sits more forward, trying to make eye contact with Corgan. "Jimmy, is it possible your wife got up and turned the hall light on?"

"No! That was one of them. Are you saying Lisa's dead?"

"Afraid so, Jimmy. You're looking at a heavy sentence. Triple homicide."

"Brian?" Corgan's eyes go wide.

"Him too."

"Connor?"

Goldblume can't compute the name. He turns to Sanchez. "Connor?"

"The unborn son."

Goldblume raises his brows. Turning to look back at Corgan he says, "Yes. Connor too."

"Oh my God. I was told I could get better. Just keep the thoughts far away. People said to Lisa she was in trouble. I told them, no. I love her. I…_love_…her! It didn't happen right away. I was fine since I got back. Then it started happening."

"What did Jimmy?"

"The thoughts. I was alone for so long. Nothing ever happened. When I met Lisa, things rushed back to me. I saw a shrink. He just offered me pills. I told him they'd dissolve and the bad thoughts would come back. He wanted me to over-medicate. I stopped seeing him."

"Jimmy. Listen to me. You suffer PTSD. Post-traumatic Syndrome Disorder. We might be able to get you down to a lesser charge." From in back, Sanchez looks at Goldblume shocked. "If you help us to understand what you're going through, we just might be able to get you the help you need. An institution is the only way. Round the clock help. In turn you would have to stay there for five years or more. However long it takes for you to get better. Do you understand, Jimmy?"

"Yes. I can. I can change. If given the right tools. Have more information."

Sanchez puts a hand to his face. He shakes his head.

"Can I talk to my lawyer about this?" Corgan asks Goldblume.

"Yes. You can. I'm sure he'll tell you the same thing. You need help, Jimmy. I can help you." Goldblume answers, looking back at Sanchez who signals for him it's time to leave. "I'm going to leave Jimmy, but I'll be back. I'll let you know what I can do for you." He and Sanchez leave.

Washington waits for them to return. Goldblume walks ahead of Sanchez who shakes his head.

"Unbelievable." Sanchez says. Goldblume remains oblivious of the lieutenant's befuddlement.


	6. Chapter 6

Henry and Neal return to the station where they argue their points about the case.

"I can't believe you laid that insanity plea jive right in Sanchez's face. Henry, you are crazy! You see this guy as some war hero just because he got a medal. I see him for what he really is. A psychotic murderer and a baby killer!"

"Neal, you weren't in that cell."

"I didn't have to be. The evidence speaks for itself."

"I'm telling you, Neal. You didn't see him in there. The man lives with demons."

"What are you tellin' me? That he needs a priest, on top of the insane asylum deal? That his head started spinnin'?"

"No. You're thinking of one of those Exorcist movies."

"When will you wake up, man? He knew he was putting them in danger and refused the help he needed. What do you think he's gonna get? Negligent homicide? What are you gonna do? Send him to some mental hospital until one day he _claims _to be better, then he takes out a bunch more people?"

"You're making it sound like he's a serial killer." Goldblume answers testily.

"From what Dr. Heben said, he sure couldn't be sane. He IS a serial killer. He murdered three people…" Washington points a finger for emphasis. "…and don't you _dare_ tell me that baby his wife was carrying wasn't a human being. I know all about human rights."

"Neal, I didn't say the baby wasn't a victim. Jimmy told me his name was Connor."

"Now you're on a first name basis with this sicko?"

"I'm trying to understand him."

"You're trying to get him leniency!"

Goldblume stops to think. "Dr. Heben?" He rubs his forehead. "Who is Dr. Heben?" The lieutenant looks at Washington. "Neal? Who is Dr. Heben?" Washington turns away. "Who is Dr. Heben?"

Washington exhales heavy before saying, "Corgan's former psychiatrist."

"How did you find him?"

"Went back to the apartment and did some searching."

"With a warrant? Why didn't you tell me?" Goldblume asks in a befuddled tone.

"I didn't feel it was necessary."

"It wasn't necessary?" A stung Goldblume repeats. "We're supposed to be partners. This is our case!"

"Neal's case." Furillo answers from behind.

The two detectives turn around. Washington says nothing, as Goldblume stares hard at the captain.

"Wh… You're kidding, right Frank?" Goldblume asks.

"As of this moment, you are off this case, Henry."

Goldblume marches directly into the captain's office. "Who says?"

"I say. Henry."

"How come?"

"I think you know." Furillo looks up, plopping down on his chair. "Lt. Sanchez just called to tell me all about your vow to Corgan about getting him help."

"Yes. I thought it would be a good idea."

"You practically promised him leniency before we even brought this to the courts yet!" The captain calms down slightly. "Tell me, Henry. Did you think it was a good idea when Corgan told you the name of his unborn child? Or was it when you guessed about the PTSD without evidence."

"Neal had already talked with the psychologist before we got there. I didn't know about it. Yes, It seemed obvious that's what's wrong with him."

Furillo grits his teeth. "Let me make this very clear to you. I won't have any of my men make a mockery of this department. Sanchez was extremely embarrassed by your behavior as he had to listen to you spout off like Corgan was some prison camp detainee that had been wrongly accused. We don't do that. This is not a Vietnam War demonstration! And don't you _dare _try bringing Neal into this when he had nothing to do with it. He was left out of this for a reason."

Goldblume stares. "You knew." He unfreezes his position. "You knew, Frank. You knew Sanchez didn't want Neal to be there with me and that's why he was left to wait for us. I was set up to fail. Wasn't I? Just like you probably sent Neal back to the crime scene without me."

"Partners are always split to make more headway for a case. Henry, this isn't a blame game."

"But it _is_ a game. It's a game of _Let's See How Badly Goldblume Can Screw Up._"

"You're the only one who wants to see Corgan get out of this by way of insanity."

"I get it now, Frank. Yeah. Thanks. Now I gotta go and tell a man he has no chance."

"You do that and you're out of this department. I mean it." Furillo firmly states.

Goldblume turns. "Yeah. I got it." He leaves the captain's office.

Hunter talks with Bates outside the office.

"Yeah. I get it." Bates answers. "Y'know, Joe was also in Vietnam. He would tell me these stories. No way though. He knew guys who came back with PTSD, but they never did anything to hurt anyone. From what you told me, this guy sounds like an absolute psycho."

"Well, I can't believe Goldblu…" Hunter stops when Goldblume breezes by.

"You know what? Don't ever cross the captain! He's right about everything! How can he not be? He's the captain." Bates watches unamused. Various other officers stop what they're doing as Goldblume rants. "Make sure you agree with everybody else's opinion _too_. You're all puppets. You know what? I'm not! I refuse to be! My opinion counts! Hell, that's what I'm here for. That's my _job_. _But_, I don't agree so therefore I'm bumped off the case! There's a cold slap in the face. Why am I here? Oh, that's right! To say yes, yes, yes for everything! Even if it is against my better judgment."

"Judgment, huh?" Bates answers above the crowd. "Hey Henry, why don't you give me a try?" She says stepping forward.

Goldblume looks down in defeat, shaking his head. "Lucy, this isn't about pro-choice or abortion."

"Who said it was? Just a lady's opinion. Besides, Howard told me plenty without the gory details. I can deal with that. Come on, why don't you ask me how I feel? Or are you too chicken?

Several officers moan at the challenge. "Ooooooh."

"Come on. Let's talk about what's right and what's wrong. Everybody knows by the way you whine, that you're always right."

Goldblume answers tiredly, "Lucy, now's not the time or place."

"Why? 'Cause you say so? I'm sick and tired of hearing your cheap dime store psychology that you spew time and time again! You walk around here like some big shot when things go your way, so you can thumb your nose at the rest of us. You've become the biggest ass…_donkey_ than anybody in this station combined. You're so perfect! Ever since you became a published author, you act like you know everything. Like you're bigger than the captain! You don't even care about your kids, so what does it matter to you that some guy killed his wife and children. You know what I'm talkin' about."

Hill says quietly to Renko as they watch, "Sarge is givin' it to him with both barrels."

Renko answers back with his jaw dropped. "She is on a rampage."

Washington crosses his arms, calmly chewing on a toothpick next to the captain's office.

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talkin' about." Bates points her finger right at Goldblume, who reluctantly listens. "That time you were supposed to take your son… Remember him? Josh? You were supposed to take him ice skating? Remember that? We were all there! Rachel came in and brought him here. He was so happy to do something with his daddy. He had this huge smile on his face and brought a shiny new pair of skates, lookin' for you. You couldn't be found anywhere. Finally, somebody had the decency to say you left to go out on a date with your literary agent and forgot. We all saw when Josh was broken-hearted over that. How can you do that to your own flesh and blood? To let him down like that? I feel so guilty if I forget to do something with Fabian, and I'm not even his real mother!"

Furillo comes out of his office. He exchanges glances with Washington.

"Hey, and all the talk about your interests. No. The only thing you think I can talk about is pro-choice and tampons. Why? Because I'm a woman and you have no respect for us unless we either agree with you or you're in the horizontal position!"

Goldblume says quietly in defense. "I think you have me confused with LaRue."

Bates glares at him. Her eyes become slightly watery. "So, everything is all a matter of your opinion. Huh, Goldblume? I'm gonna tell you something about human rights. We all know it's article 4.1. You want to talk about John LaRue? I'll tell you about _rights_. Everybody has the right to live! He had a right to _live_! So, you tell me how my kid won't have a father because he's spread over a lake since some other cops felt it was right to bump him off the road! There's human rights for you!"

Eyes go wide. Hunter's pipe drops out of his mouth. Belker's cigar does the same as he stares in shock. Hill and Renko's jaws drop.

Bates looks around at all of the eyes upon her. Nobody makes a sound. Washington slowly takes the toothpick out of his mouth. Although shocked, Furillo stiffly watches her every move. She turns all the way around, trying to swallow. The misery overcomes her. Immediately, she bursts into tears and seeks refuge elsewhere in the station. Within the silence, everybody hears the rushed footsteps and a door shutting nearby.

Slowly, they all get out of their numb state.

Renko slowly says as he still stares, "Oh lordy. Do I need my ears cleaned or did I just hear the confession of the twentieth century?"

"That goes double for me, Renko."

"Lucy's gonna be a momma."

"And J.D.'s gonna be a poppa…posthumously."

Furillo still stares. He says to Henry, who remains stunned, "I want Lucy off all patrol duty." He makes his way past the officers who stand dumbfounded.

Hunter picks up his pipe, dusts it off, then puts it back in his mouth. He says, "Interesting revelation."

Officer Garcia shakes his head. "I should've given her my cinnamon roll."

Belker rushes over towards the ladies room, where the captain stands outside. "Captain? I'll do toilet traffic." Sheepishly he puts his hands in pockets. "Y'know. In case of emergencies? The men's room?"

"Thanks, Mick. " Furillo smiles and puts a hand on the detective's shoulder, before knocking at the door. "Lucy?"

Belker announces, "Okay. For as long as it takes, the men's room will be used as unisex. If we got any emergencies, it'll be one at a time." He looks back at the ladies room before walking over to the men's.

Washington stays put, watching everybody's reactions. Hunter comes up to him. "Congratulations to your partner." Washington slightly looks up with no words. Hunter catches the signal. He looks up to the ceiling. "Congratulations, LaRue." A moment of melancholy strikes the lieutenant of EATers. He puts a hand on Washington's shoulder, smiles, then steps away.

The door becomes ajar as the captain peeks into a very empty ladies room. Then he hears a sniffle. Cautiously he steps in. The first and second stall doors are wide open. Taking a deep breath, he spots the third one ajar. "Lucy?" Another sniffle is his only answer. Lightly, he opens it, hoping not to catch her in a very awkward moment. The door creaks open. Sitting on the closed toilet seat is Bates.

"I know." She looks down at the tissue in her hands. "I tried to stop it myself." He looks at her, not being able to understand. She looks back at him knowing he's confused, but listening non the less. "My feelings. I uh...went to a restaurant…on the lower east side. And uh, I was supposed to have a date with this insurance guy who was getting a policy for me and Fabe. I liked him. He left me alone 'cause he had someone already. And there was good ol' J.D. I was on his side of town. So what do I expect?" She looks down, blowing her nose. "He uh, told this guy off and I was so…_surprised_…because no…" Bates overflows with tears. Her voice squeals. "…nobody ever did that for me before." Furillo puts a hand to her thigh for comfort. She tries to get a grip of her emotions. "Then I felt something so_ strong_. I tried to avoid it, but couldn't. It happened to me so fast. I tried to leave and my car wouldn't start. He found me and…I…I knew I was in trouble." She grabs the captain's hand, clutching it. "I know it's hard to believe. I'm still trying to make sense of it myself." Tears run down her cheeks. Furillo picks off some toilet paper, dabbing her cheeks. "Thanks." She answers quickly. "He was so sweet." Bates rolls her eyes. "I know. Sweet wouldn't be the kind of thing you associate J.D. with." She says with sincerity, "I knew I had to have him…and I _did_." She squeezes her eyes shut, body convulsing while holding in her emotions. "And…and he was so amazing." Bates bawls again, dropping her head down. Furillo massages the top of her blonde tousled hair. She looks back up. "Now I have this little _person_. I don't know what to do with them. Tell me? What makes me any better than somebody who kills his kids?" The captain doesn't know what to make of her comparison. "Nothing." She says. "This one doesn't even have a chance. I've neglected them for six weeks already. Probably gonna miscarry. I ignored all the symptoms. I'm horrible to people and I don't deserve anything good! He would've been better off with some no name bimbo, instead of mushy-hearted me. And now I'm destroying his kid's life." She shakes her head. "I'm just a horrible, horrible, detestable person."

"Lucy, you're not a horrible person." Furillo calmly states. "You're the exact opposite. You're the bravest woman I know and fitting into this crazy world has always been a challenge for you. There's nothing wrong with having feelings…for anyone. I've seen you sometimes bottle up your feelings too much. It's _okay_."

"Not what I did to Henry." Bates answers miserably.

"Yes. _Especially_ what you said to Henry. I think you said what a lot of people were _too_ afraid to say. Or what they felt." He gives a small guilty smile.

"I know what you're sayin' but I gotta believe in the end uh, J.D. didn't have the same feelings for me. I know it's his kid and all, but… That's where it stops. I even made a pass at him in the interrogation room the next…the final day. And, nothing. I was supposed to see him that Thursday but I'm sure he would've blown me off."

"What about his final words?" Furillo asks in confusion.

"That was just to humor me. I was simply an easy conquest and I'm okay with that. It's my fault for getting knocked up and I always separated my professional life from my personal one and…this is what I get for breaking my own rules." She eyes the floor.

"Lucy, I want you to know I'm here for you." Furillo says in honest fashion while getting up. He starts toward the door.

Bates touches her stomach and looks back up. "Uh, Captain?"

He turns around.

"What you said earlier about Sergeant Esterhaus? Phil? This one's Jr. At least for now."

The captain gives her a smile, then leaves the ladies room.

Everybody watches him go back to his office. He approaches Washington who still remains nearby.

"Uh, Neal? How are you doing?" Furillo puts a hand on the detective's shoulder.

"Okay. A little surprised but, uh, kind of happy. Havin' a second generation on the way. I'm okay with Lucy. Think she'll have her hands full. With someone like J.D., you never could tell what he'd get into. It'll be interesting to see how this one comes out. I gotta say though, there will always be one J.D. LaRue."

"That reminds me, didn't you tell me you were supposed to go with him a few days later somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah. That was supposed to be a double date that Thursday."

"Didn't you say he wasn't up to it?"

"Yep. He was actin'…I don't know. _Different_. More serious. Preoccupied like somethin' was goin' on." He thinks for a moment. "If there's one woman who can rise to the challenge of raising a little LaRue? That would be Lucy."

Furillo smiles. He goes back into his office. Washington remains standing in the same position he was before.

Just watching.

Thinking.

Bates emerges from the ladies room. Belker walks up to her. He says in an unsure manner, "Uh, Lucy…uh, Sarge? Ya know I've had a little bit of experience with what you're goin' through. So, uh, if you ever need any help or anything. Strange cravings. Donation of toys. I learned how to change diapers…_on my own_. Robin didn't help me at all." He says, beaming with pride.

She smiles back at him. "Thanks, Mick."

He steps out of her way when Hill and Renko block hers. Hill says, "Sarge? Hey, if you'd like, I could take Fabian out for a day. Shoot some hoops, so you could have some time to yourself. Renko here can even watch us since he's too out of shape." He grabs him by the arm, leading him away.

Renko darts his eyes, perturbed. "You makin' fun of my weight?"

Hill grits his teeth and quietly says, "Just givin' you something to do, cowboy. A little motivation and some help towards the sergeant."

As Bates nears the captain's office, Lt. Hunter says, "Oh, Bates?" He intellectualizes with his pipe. "It's been brought to my attention that some of our fellow officers have been willing to lend a helping hand. I may not exactly be sought after as kith and kin, and I certainly have no knowledge of diapers. Uh…" He looks down, trying to think for a moment. "I could always show him or her the advantage points of a Federal M201-Z Grenade Launcher." Showing his big Cheshire Cat smile, it disappears when he knows it's not the best idea. He grows more serious. "Or I can just tell them stories about their remarkable father."

"Sweet, Howard. I think the stories will suffice. We'll get to the grenade launcher at a later time. A _much_ later time." Bates answers, not wanting to disappoint the lieutenant of EATers. She puts a hand to his shoulder. Then she sees Lt. Goldblume behind him. She looks down while letting Hunter by.

"I um, I owe you an apology, Henry. I was really out of line and I just…" She holds her head up high. "I just want to say, 'I'm sorry.'"

Goldblume says with a growing toothy smile, "That kid is gonna be lucky. I don't know how John would be as a father, but you're gonna make one hell of a mom. Apologies not necessary." He grins, then lets her through to who she really wants to talk with.

Washington.

"Neal?" She says awkwardly. "I know it's not the kind of thing you ever expected to hear. Goes for me too actually. I don't really know what to say, you bein' his partner."

"Come here." Washington says coolly. He gives her a big hug. "You're gonna have your hands full with that one. A _real_ lady killer."

"I'm gonna do the best I can. The rest, I'll pray and hope my genetics show through more." Bates starts to step away before saying, "Thanks, Neal."

Washington winks back, chewing on his toothpick. He stays watching the interaction between the sergeant and whoever crosses her path. Renko approaches her on his own, grinning, touching her stomach, giving her a hug, and gesturing a lot with his hands. She smiles big for him, nodding back. Officer Garcia and Corp. officer Buchanan join in. Washington takes the toothpick out of his mouth, flings it in the garbage can and disappears sight unseen from the busy squad room.


	7. Chapter 7

A knock comes at Furillo's open door.

"Come in."

Hesitantly, Goldblume steps in. "Got a minute, Frank?"

"Yes." The captain answers, putting on a serious face.

"I came here to apologize. What Lucy said? I needed to hear that. Especially from a woman. I've been acting like an ass for a long time. I was in the bathroom and I looked in the mirror. The first thing I asked myself was, 'Henry? What are you doing?' Then I started thinking about it, and I came up with an explanation. I aspired to be like you and J.D."

Furillo's eyes turn away in deep concern.

"I'm not talking about recovering alcoholics, Frank."

Furillo closes his eyes in relief.

"I think I aspired to be like you in the sense that you went through a divorce and came out of it okay, then married the lovely Joyce. And you did it all without missing a beat. A smooth transition."

"It wasn't always smooth, Henry. Child support. Alimony payments. My life is far from perfect. I'm far from perfect."

"I know, but you made it look so…desirable. J.D. made it look so easy to pick up women."

"He had a knack. Not always the best choices and his behavior didn't help."

"Yeah, but he did it a lot of times with positive results. Was it looks? Charm? Something irresistible about him? Frank, I don't have that. I'd have women who'd give me one look and pass me by. Maybe I just don't look like the flirting kind? Just thinking about it, how many guys wear a bowtie in this day and age? I look more like somebody's substitute teacher. Anyway, what I'm saying is, I grew stale in my marriage to Rachel. I wanted what you and J.D. had…have. _Have had_. When I got that opportunity with the woman I met on my cab investigation back then, I knew it was my time. I knew what I was losing. Rachel and the kids. But on the other hand, I knew there could be more out there. Someone full of adventure. If that one didn't work, then I could always try another, and another. Sort of like J.D. and his endless string of romances."

"Don't you mean failed relationships?" Furillo corrects him.

"Yeah. Well, I've had my share. I thought I had a good thing goin' with Fay, and maybe I wanted her more at the time because you had her. I was so obsessed in becoming like you, that I wanted to try Fay too. It was okay, but then I started feeling like she was a second Rachel. Kids. Nagging. Wants. Needs. I found the whole commitment thing confining. I wasn't happy with her and I wanted more again. Henry: the wild and swinging bachelor. I had fantasies of finding her. That's all they were though. Fantasies. Gina came along and I thought she was it, my destination to true happiness. Turned out I was more in love with her lifestyle. Expensive clothes. Fancy dinners. She gave me all the material things I needed to be cool. I didn't do much with her though. It was pretty routine after a while. Expensive clothes. Fancy dinners. Sex. Fancy dinners. More sex."

Furillo closes his eyes, not wanting to hear anymore. "I get the point, Henry."

"I lost a part of myself in all that. When she died, I was left with her estate and all the baggage from this woman I didn't really know. I didn't really know myself after. It took some time to meet the next one and it was like I completely forgot the life I had before. Lucy was right. Rachel never said anything about the ice skating incident but Josh didn't want to talk to me for a little while after that. I never knew. Isn't that something? My own kid? I broke his heart and I didn't even know why. How do you manage to keep things in perspective, Frank. Fay. Frank Jr. Joyce. Mortgage. Bills. Station. Being a cop? Being the captain?"

"Priority, Henry."

"Priority." Goldblume slowly smiles. "Do you think John would have had it in light of today's circumstances and what we all learned today?"

"I have a strong feeling that answer would be yes."

"Then he'd be stronger than me. That's just me though. Needing to grow up."

"Sometimes you just have to realize what you have and be happy to have anything despite yourself."

"Yeah. Sounds like good advice and not dime store psychology." Goldblume grins. "Oh, that's another reason I came in here. Aside from telling you everything about my trail of broken hearts. I was wrong."

"About?"

"About this whole Corgan case. I was too blinded by this guy's past that I ignored what happened in the present. All the stories I've heard about…read about young soldiers coming back from war. Getting spit at. Treated like a second class citizen for going out there to defend one's country? Howard's told me things and he's not proud of it either." He looks up for a moment. "I was thinking about when Annie and Josh were just born. Little babies and how fragile they are and how as a parent it's my duty as a father to protect them. So, I don't know how I got so muddled up in thinking it's okay for a father to kill his own babies and tack on an insanity defense. To think what he did to his wife. I knew. I had a gut feeling that there was a young child in that room. The son Neal found. I knew I didn't want to look in there. I shut it out of my mind. I didn't want my role as a parent to cloud my judgment about the case. Instead, I let Corgan's past do that for me. I'm really sorry Frank. I only hope Neal can somehow forgive me." Goldblume looks down in thought for a moment. "I gotta say this about Lucy, that child of hers will never have a chance to talk out of line with her. No siree."

Goldblume leaves the office. Furillo becomes deep in thought, looking out his window. He goes to fetch his jacket.

The cell door slides open with a thunderous sound echoing through the empty halls. James Corgan looks up as he sits at a table to see Det. Neal Washington eyeing him under his nose.

"What happened to that other cop?" Corgan notices Washington isn't saying anything which makes him nervous, on top of the cell door closing behind. "My lawyer said if there's any deal, he has to be present."

"You're gonna have to deal with me, Jimmy. I'm just here to talk with ya."

Corgan gets more nervous. "Wh…what d…do you want from me?"

"I'm gonna tell you how it's gonna be, Jimmy."

"Yeah. The other guy told me to sit tight and he was gonna work out some time for me at a hospital. To get better."

Washington walks up to him. "You ain't ever gonna get better, Jimmy."

"What?" Corgan asks in confusion.

"You're in such deep denial that you either don't remember or don't give a damn about what you did to your own family."

"D…don't say th…that. I l...love my fam…family." Corgan stutters. He slides the chair back fast when he sees Washington leering at him devoid of any expression.

"No deal, Jimmy."

Corgan gets up. "You can't do that!"

Washington shoves him against the wall. "Or what? You gonna try and cut me? Huh, Jimmy? You're gonna listen to me good, suckah!" His eyes go wide. "This is how it's gonna be, man. No Goldblume. No insanity defense." He tightens his grip on Corgan's collar. "No deal! What you're gettin' is three consecutive life sentences. Twenty-five for Lisa. Twenty-five for Brian, and twenty-five for unborn Connor, 'cause he had rights too. You think you can get out on parole for what you did? You might have wiped out your wife and children, but you're gonna have to answer to her family. Whether it be her parents. After they die, then her siblings will have their say. When they die, you'll have to deal with nieces and nephews, and all the generations to come." Washington glares at Corgan who tries to wriggle away from the detective's grip. "You're not so tough without an eight inch, are you Jimmy? No. You're just a weak sicko who put his own family in danger by never gettin' help. A real psycho with grand delusions of avenging his past. Tell me man, when was it enough for you?"

Capt. Furillo finishes signing in to the midtown precinct, when he hears the detective's voice booming from nearby.

Washington yells, "Tell me! Was it when your wife put up her hands in defense or was it when you reached three inches of that blade into your unborn son's trachea?"

Corgan shutters, attempting to put his hands to his ears. "Nooooo!"

"I just found out my late partner's gonna be a father for the second time. Me and my friends are all willin' to help. We would never want to do anything to harm that child. You know why, man? Because he or she is _family_! And you don't hurt _family_! Let me tell you somethin', chump! If I ever see somebody like you wantin' to hurt our baby on the Hill, I won't need a blade or a gun." Washington curls his hands around Corgan's throat tighter, nearly cutting off his air supply. "My hands will do just fine." He grits his teeth, with Corgan trying to breathe.

"L…et ghaoooo!"

"Neal! That's enough!" Furillo shouts, trying to pull the detective away from Corgan. A guard helps too.

Washington yells back, "You might have been a war hero, but that's in the past! You're a coward now, man!" The captain pulls him away. "A baby killer!" The detective shouts while being ushered away. "Murderer!" His voice echoes.


	8. Chapter 8

Furillo later returns to his office. He plops down in the chair, exhausted from all of the day's drama.

Across the way, Officer Raymond goes to check on interrogation room 'B.' He glances around, smudging a finger against the table, in search of dust. Then he spots something white on the floor. Picking it up, he notices it's a folded page compact enough to fit in a jacket pocket. He unfolds and reads it. Surprised, he glances down where he found it.

The captain leans his head back, needing only a few minutes to relax before going home for the night. Shutting his eyes, he closes himself away from the emptying day shift crew. An abrupt knock at the door sends him back to reality. He wouldn't be able to completely relax until he was out of the building. Exhaling deeply, he wearily answers. "Come in."

Officer Raymond answers, "Uh, Captain? I found something on the floor in the interrog…"

Furillo puts up his hand. "I'll look at it tomorrow."

"Um, I think you really need to see this." Raymond answers.

"Can't it wait?" Furillo answers annoyed.

"It's J.D."

Furillo perks up his head. "What?"

Raymond hands him the folded page. "I found it in interrogation room 'B.' It's um, to…Lucy."

The captain reaches for it. "This has been on the floor for six weeks? Don't we have janitors around here?"

"It might've gotten kicked around or something. It was lodged against the wall."

"I didn't know anything could get lodged against the wall. Thanks."

Raymond walks away.

Furillo unfolds the page, reading it to himself. He looks up at the quiet squad room beyond his office. His brows arch up and he folds the page back up. Nodding his head, the captain slowly puts on his jacket to call it a day.

At night, Frank slips out of his clothes, except his boxers. He gets under the covers to join Joyce.

"I never saw him like that before. So passionate about a case. I didn't even know Neal had a temper."

Joyce rubs lotion on her arms. "Reading the report, makes me shudder just thinking of what that animal did to his wife and children." She feels a cold chill. "Moving on from the macabre to the absurd. LaRue and Bates."

"Apparently, the feelings were mutual." Frank answers, watching Joyce rub. She catches his eyes on her. Immediately, she tends to his shoulders with lotion. With a rubbing motion, Joyce thinks for a moment. "Not what I'd call your typical Romeo and Juliet."

"After what Lucy told me… I forgot what it's like to be alone." Frank answers, staring ahead.

Joyce dabs lotion on his arms, rubbing it in. "Just let me know when the little green eyed junior is crawling on the floor."

"Why?"

"I'll have to wear a longer skirt."

"Green?"

"You don't forget the color of someone's eyes when they're creeping all over you, Pizza Man."

"Never noticed." He shrugs.

"It's not for you to notice." Joyce finishes up with the lotion and snuggles underneath the covers. She mutters aloud. "John LaRue and Lucy Bates."

Frank puffs his pillow to join her. "There are more mismatched couples I can think of. For instance, Fay and Henry."

Joyce snickers. "Fay and Paul Grogan."

"Phil and Grace Gardner." Frank answers.

"Phil and what's her name? Cindy. You have to admit that one's a little creepy."

"Howard Hunter and Grace Gardner. Short lived, but _different_."

"How about you and Fay." Joyce says with a grin.

Frank looks up in thought. "Peanut butter and jelly."

"That's not a couple, Frank."

He smiles back. "It's all I could think of. They're an odd pairing."

"But they taste good together." She ponders. "Okay, Frank. You give me an example."

Frank lightly runs a finger over her arm, sliding down a satin spaghetti strap from her shoulder. "Well, I'm the smooth jelly."

"In reference to you being a smooth operator?" She answers to the touch.

"Could be." He smirks devilishly.

She puts her head back and exhales deeply. "So,_ great_. That leaves me to be the gooey peanut butter."

"_Well_…" He answers, unable to wipe the smirk off his face. Slowly, he creeps up, pinning her underneath. "That's because I'm stuck on you." He tries to kiss her, but both are overcome with giggles.

"Turn off the light…Jelly Man."

Frank turns off the light.


End file.
